


Like A Ghost

by qrantaire (rivenjolras)



Series: Fixin' Things [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Ghost Cribs, M/M, Pining, Series, Spoilers, Unhealthy Relationships, leading to the Railroad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:38:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5668000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivenjolras/pseuds/qrantaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Codsworth’s robot eyes shutter closed and open again, an odd line in his programming that Deacon supposes is supposed to mimic a human blinking. “It has been twelve hours, thirty-seven minutes, and fifteen seconds since Sir left, Master Deacon.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like A Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Fixer is broken, Deacon is broken, the whole Commonwealth is broken. Can stand alone, but I highly recommend reading the first two installments in the series to really "get it". No longer Spoiler-free.

Deacon has never owned a working watch. Some alarm clocks work in the Commonwealth, and Mr. Handys seem to be built with some sort of innate internal clock. If he asked Codsworth, he would probably tell him to the exact second. As if that means anything in this post-war world. Deacon wouldn’t know- this is the reality he was born into.

Deacon stares out the window of a wood shack Fixer built- across from the molecular relay, which he also built. He wonders if Fixer will ever truly tell him who he was before the bombs fell. Deacon isn’t sure a common soldier of the United States of America quite contained Fixer’s particular skillset. Deacon is thumbing through a Pre-War book Fixer found for him. It’s a poetry anthology in decent shape for its age. Deacon didn’t ask where Fixer got it- but inside the back cover, in fountain ink, reads “For Nora. Love-” Love, _what_? Love, _who_? The back cover has the bottom right chunk missing. Deacon isn’t sure if that was deliberate.

Deacon sets the book down on the end table, and shuts off the light. He notes that among Fixer’s many titles, “electrician” is a very possible one. He pads down the stairs, and out the window he sees Codsworth floating past. He forgot that that robot never slept. Not that Deacon believes Codsworth would sleep on a night he knows that his master is currently in the lion’s den of the fucking Commonwealth. Deacon opens the door to the shack he and Fixer inhabit whenever they’re not running from settlement to raider camp to Goodneighbor to Diamond City to settlement. He waves Codsworth down.

“Ah, Master Deacon, I am surprised to see you awake, given the hour-”

Deacon interrupts him. “Yeah, I know, the hermit is out of his room and all that, ha ha, very funny- glad we got that over with- what actually IS the time, Cods?” The delivery is screwed up, way too fast. Deacon is shaking, but the night air is warm and dry.

Codsworth’s robot eyes shutter closed and open again, an odd line in his programming that Deacon supposes is supposed to mimic a human blinking. “It has been twelve hours, thirty-seven minutes, and fifteen seconds since Sir left, Master Deacon.”

Deacon freezes. He’s apparently that fucking transparent. “Thanks, Cods.” He murmurs. The robot dips in an approximation of a bow before resuming his nightly routine. Deacon doesn’t leave the spot, and watches Codsworth disappear down the road, behind one of the surviving Sanctuary houses.

A sound like a crack startles him. The blue light is blindingly unnatural, and Deacon is aware of what that means.

As soon as Deacon’s eyes recover, he sees Fixer fall to his knees on the pavement. Fixer’s voice is nothing like Deacon has ever heard from him. “Deacon… Deacon…” Fixer croaks.

Deacon is there in an instant, his knees fucking hurt from how quickly he drops down to Fixer’s level. He wraps his arms around the other man, and breathes, “I’m here, bud, I’m here.” _Don’t worry_ , he communicates through touch. _I love you_ , his traitorous heart sings.

Fixer is silent for a long moment, just breathing. No one else is awake, and in the still of the night, it is almost peaceful. Nothing in the Commonwealth is ever this peaceful, Deacon thinks.

Abruptly, Fixer breaks it. “My son, Deacon.” Fixer looks up at him, his brown eyes resembling coals in a fire. “He’s tangled up in this whole fucking mess. He _runs_ this huge fucking mess.” He spits the words out like they’re poison. Deacon stiffens.

Fixer looks down, his rage deflating like air out of a pre-war balloon. “I’m going to have to kill my son.” It is soft. Deacon has never heard this out of him. Deacon clambers to his feet, and holds out his hand for Fixer to take. For once, he has nothing to say.

Fixer grabs Deacon’s wrist and hoists himself up. But he doesn’t let go. His grip is bruising, and he says nothing as he yanks Deacon behind him. He walks briskly past their wooden shack, straight to what Deacon recognizes as Fixer’s old residence. He’s never been.

There’s no doors, and Fixer had waved away anyone who tried to spruce up this house, much to his companions’ chagrin. No one set foot here, in spite of space being more and more valuable, and his abode being the most well-preserved of them all.

Fixer no longer needs to yank him, but Deacon doesn’t mind it. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a broken crib, standing alone and half-illuminated by moonlight coming through the window. It looks like a ghost.

Fixer shoves him into bedroom that Deacon is surprised to learn has a queen-sized bed inside. He attacks Deacon’s clothes like they personally wronged him. Fixer pushes him onto his knees and takes him as soon as he knows Deacon is able to withstand it. When Deacon looks back as Fixer enters him, he notes that Fixer’s hair is unshaven- it’s been weeks since they’ve had even a moment to stop by John’s in the Great Green Jewel- and his expression is wild and raw.

As Deacon is rammed into the next century, his mind wanders to the crib- the literally robbed cradle- and he is filled to the brim with bitterness.

**Author's Note:**

> Deaconvevo helped very heavily with this one, contributing title and giving me extremely helpful suggestions. Find me on my [tumblr](http://qrantaire.tumblr.com), let me tell you about Fixer and how much of a fuckup he is.


End file.
